


Hank/Reader Oneshots

by Lookatallmyships



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Am I showing my hand here?, Baking, Christmas, Christmas Shopping, Connor's puppydog eyes, Day At The Beach, Encountering an annoying admirer, F/M, Fluff, Hank is a Good Dad, Hank is a good guy, Humor, Lifeguard!Hank, M/M, Mild Hand & Finger Kink, Mild Size Difference Kink, One Shot Collection, Secret Santa, Slice of Life, Stress Baking, TRIGGER WARNING FOR CHAPTER 7, Tattooed!Reader, Toystore!au, Winter, android!reader, bookstore, cuddling on the couch, gender ambiguous!reader, mild strength kink, retail worker!reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:47:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 7,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28167984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lookatallmyships/pseuds/Lookatallmyships
Summary: A collection of oneshots that are each inspired by one word.
Relationships: Cole Anderson & Reader, Connor & Reader, Gavin Reed & Reader, Hank Anderson/Reader, Hank Anderson/you, Nines & Reader, Reader & Minor oc's
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	1. Hands

**Author's Note:**

> These helped me scratch the itch to write some Hank/Reader- I'd love to hear what you think!

You love Hank’s hands.

They’re big. Big enough that your own hand feels dwarfed in his by comparison. Each and every time the two of you hold hands, you can’t help but take a moment to marvel at the difference.

As well as being big, his hands are rough too. Hank is a man who’s used to working with his hands, both on and off of the job. He has calluses from wielding his handgun and his hands are frequently scraped up from various mishaps while on the job. One time while he was chasing a perp, the detective wound up getting shoved backwards into a brick wall. Hank caught himself quick enough to stay on his feet and quickly resume chase, but his palms were all scraped up for a week afterwards.

Hank is _strong._ You should be used to it by now, but you can’t help but be surprised when he lifts you off your feet or manages to keep ahold of Sumo’s leash when the Saint Bernard _really really_ wants to go meet someone new at the park.

Despite all that strength and roughness, Hank is never anything less than gentle with you.

-

_The first time you visited Hank down at the police station, you decided to stop by as a surprise. You happened to be near the station anyway, so you figured you'd surprise him by grabbing a couple coffees from the little hipster place that the lieutenant refuses to admit he likes. If he wasn’t in the office, then no harm no foul. You’d just leave the coffee and ask someone to let him know it was there whenever he got back._

_Just as you stepped through the front door, you accidentally bumped into someone who was just on their way out. Luckily you kept hold of the coffees with minimal spillage and the man apologized profusely before helping you mop up the tiny bit of coffee that had sloshed through the lid and onto the floor._

_Just a few moments after you finished cleaning up and the man disappeared out the door with one last apology, Hank came walking in from what appeared to be a back room._

_“What’s going on out here? I thought I heard someone yell” he said, still looking down at the open folder in his hands._

_A hark haired police officer snorted in derision from his spot at his desk. “Officer Miller wasn’t watching where he was going, nothing new.”_

_Hank sighed and closed the file. He looked up and his eyes lit up when he noticed you standing by the door. “Y/n. You didn’t tell me you were stopping by.”_

_Despite his gruff voice, you could tell that he’s pleased to see you. On more than one occasion he’s accidentally let it slip that he often missed you during his shifts._

_“I figured I would come surprise you” you held up one of the drinks with a smile. “I brought you coffee.”_

_You could tell the moment that Hank noticed the coffee stains on your shirt. They were hardly anything to worry about, you only got spattered by a tiny bit after all and you knew you’d have no problem getting it to wash out, but he immediately came striving toward you._

_“What happened? Are you ok?” Hank took the drinks from you before setting them down on the closest desk. “Did you get burned?”_

_"No, I’m fine. It wasn’t that hot, they cooled down a bit on my way over here.”_

_Despite your reassurances, Hank insisted on grabbing you a fresh “Detroit Police Department” branded t-shirt from one of the other rooms. While he was gone, you glanced up to see the same detective from before shooting an amused look your way._

_He smirked. “I’ve never seen Hank act like such a mother hen.”_

_You couldn’t help but laugh. “I wouldn’t let him hear you say that” you teased._

_“Hear what?” Hank walked back through the door with a dark grey t-shirt slung over his arm. “Is Reed talking shit again?”_

_You laughed. “It was nothing, don’t worry about it.”_

_Hank grumbled, but when he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder to lead you somewhere private where you could change your shirt, he had a soft look on his face._

_-_

Hank glances over at you. “You’re staring.”

The sound of his voice draws you back to the present where the two of you are seated on the couch. You blink in surprise. “What?”

“You’ve been staring at my hands for the past five minutes. I know it’s not my paperwork that has you so interested.”

You feel your face heat up and you laugh through your embarrassment. “I like your hands” you mumble.

Hank looks amused. “What?”

Knowing that Hank is only pretending not to have heard you, you laugh again. “I like your hands! I can’t help it, ok? They’re very distracting.”

Hank chuckles. He tosses his papers onto the coffee table before turning to face you. The lieutenant reaches up and cradles your face in his hands. His touch is gentle, palms carefully cupping your cheeks as he strokes your jawbone. Hank draws you forward into a kiss.

Your embrace remains slow and chaste and it’s all the more sweeter for it.


	2. Sleeve

“You know you don’t have to come, right? I’m happy to have you with me, but you didn’t have to take time off of work” You laugh. “It’s not like this is my first tattoo, you know.”

Hank chuckles, looking away from the road long enough to glance at your uncovered arms. “I still don’t know how you sit through that. I may be a cop, but even I’m not gonna let someone jab me with a needle for hours on end.”

You roll your eyes. “They do let you take breaks, you know.” You look down at your tattooed sleeves. They aren’t complete yet, but you’re slowly been getting there with each new addition. “A lot of these took more than one session.”

The lieutenant shakes his head. “I’ll stick to avoiding my flu shot until the last possible minute every year.” You’re both quiet for a few minutes while Hank drives. “I figured if you’re getting a tattoo for me, the least I can do is be there.”

You smile. “Aww, Hank!”

“Shut up.” He grumbles in response and you laugh.

“Well technically it’s Sumo’s tattoo, not yours” you tease. “I could always have the tattooist slap your name on me somewhere.” The heated look Hank shoots your way makes you snicker.

“Don’t give me any ideas.”

-

“Alright, you’re all done” Gabriel says. The tattoo artist gently dabs the excess ink and blood from your skin. “That wasn’t nearly as bad as your last one, huh?”

You wince at the memory. While you consider the end result to be worth it, you still don’t enjoy the pain that comes with getting a tattoo. Your last one had been a larger piece and you had the joy of finding out that your shoulder blade is an especially sensitive area. This time around, it only took a couple of hours.

“All we need to do now is cover it and then you can go home. “Where did your boyfriend get off to, anyway?”

Thankful to finally be able to move around, you hop off the chair and stretch out your muscles. “Hank got a phone call from someone at work.” You laugh. “I think he was happy for the excuse to step outside, to be honest.”

Gabriel laughs too. “I guess it’s safe to say that we won’t see Hank booking an appointment any time soon?”

You hum. “Probably not. If he ever changes his mind, I’ll definitely recommend you first.”

“Aww. Flattery will get you everywhere” he winks.

Hank cautiously pokes his head into the room. “How’s it going? All done?”

You beam. “All done! Here, come look so Gabriel can cover it with a bandage.”

You turn sideways to give Hank a good view of your left bicep. “What do you think?” You notice Gabriel slip out of the room, mumbling something about grabbing your paperwork that you know is just an excuse to give the two of you a moment of privacy.

You’re both quiet for a minute while Hank takes in your new tattoo. You chose a picture of a Saint Bernard’s head, done in a simple black line art style. Black dots lightly fill in the areas on the dog’s ear and over his eye to distinguish the dark patches from the rest of his white fur.

Hank reaches out and lightly touches your arm, careful not to come into contact with the area that's actually tatooed. “It’s perfect. I couldn’t have designed it better myself.”

You smile at each other.

The heartfelt moment is interrupted by Gabriel striding through the doorway. “I’ve got your information sheets here and Jo’s all set to ring you up at the front desk. The only thing left to do, is to cover your new art up.”

You give him the go ahead to cover it and Gabriel pulls on a fresh pair of gloves before affixing a bandage onto your arm.

You turn to look at Hank. “So, what should I get next?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Here’s what your tattoo looks like, minus the snowflake. It’s up to you to imagine what the rest of your tattoos are comprised of. https://imgur.com/a/IIAOijI
> 
> Does Hank canonically have any tattoos? I’ve read more than one fic where he does, either on his arms or his chest, but I didn’t find any canonical evidence.
> 
> So, a bit of a sidenote: I got conflicting information about whether it is ok to cover your new tattoo with plastic wrap, so I went with a bandage because I’m all for encouraging safety.
> 
> Can you guess where the tattoo artist and the front desk person’s names came from? 😉


	3. Rescue

Stepping into the cafe, you sigh in relief. It’s getting chilly out and your sweater was quickly proven to be not quite enough to keep the wind out.

At the counter you just ask for a cup of coffee. You’ll probably go back up in a little bit to get a snack, but for now you just want to sit and warm up a little.

The Barista is a kind-faced man whose name tag says 'Connor' in a blocky font. He takes your order before telling you that you’re welcome to take a seat and that someone will bring your coffee over to you when it's ready.

You swear you catch a brief flash of grey hair disappearing through the doorway behind the counter, but you’re not sure if you imagined it or not. You smile at Connor and accept your change before grabbing a table.

You’ve only just sat down, when you hear the bell above the front door jingle. You glance up curiously before groaning when you see who just walked through the door.

Fuck. He hasn’t seen you yet, maybe you can slip out the door without him noticing? You haven’t gotten your coffee yet, but is the loss of three dollars really worth dealing with him?

 _Him,_ being a guy named Aaron who lives in your apartment building that can’t seem to accept the fact that you’re not interested.

Before you can do anything Aaron catches sight of you and grins. “Y/n, hey! Fancy meeting you here.” Without waiting for a response, he walks over and takes the seat across from you.

“ _Aaron_ , hey.” You struggle to come up with something that doesn’t make you sound open to further conversation without seeming rude. Luckily (or perhaps unluckily) Aaron doesn’t seem to care what you might have followed that up with.

“So what are you doing here sitting all by yourself? You could have called me, I would have been happy to keep you company.”

You grimace internally. “I had some free time today so I figured I’d just relax by myself.”

Does he get the hint? Of course not.

“That sounds fun, why don’t I join you? Just let me go put my order in.”

Aaron walks off and you breathe a sigh of relief. Just how awkward would it be the next time you run into each other at the apartment building, if you just left right now?

You’re making a mental pros and cons list of claiming that your mom’s cousin’s neighbor’s _someone who Aaron can never check up on_ had an emergency, when a man comes over and sets your coffee down on the table.

He has grey hair that reaches down to his cheekbones in the front with the rest of it just covering the back of his neck and a grey beard to match. Despite the color, you’re pretty sure he can’t be that old. Maybe in his early 50s if you had to guess. His name tag says Hank and you find yourself wondering why you've never come here before. 

A pair of blue eyes meet yours and you blush.

“Sorry for the wait. The closers last night forgot to restock the counter with paper cups.”

You smile. “No worries, I understand. I’m happy just being inside where it’s warm.” You catch sight of Aaron waving at you from the counter and you wince.

Hank looks to see what caught your attention before turning back towards you with a frown. “Hey, I saw that guy talking to you when he first came in. Is he giving you trouble?”

“No, not really. He’s just some guy that lives in my apartment building who keeps trying to ask me out.”

“But you want him to leave you alone?” Hank presses.

You sigh. “I’ve told him I’m not interested, but he doesn’t seem to get the hint.”

Hank frowns. “I’ll be right back, just give me two minutes. What's your name?”

Confused, you tell him your first name. Before you can ask what he’s planning, Hank pushes the coffee towards you before walking off. You watch him exchange a few words with Connor at the counter before clapping him on the back and disappearing through the door to the back.

Aaron comes sauntering back to your table with a grin. “Here you go, I got us a couple of muffins.” He slides a paper plate towards you. “The cashier recommended both kinds and I couldn’t decide which one to get” he shrugs.

“Thank you, Aaron. I wonder who makes them, they look fresh.” You try for some level of cheerfulness; it’s not like Aaron has truly done anything to deserve your ire. You get the feeling that he’s more clueless then malicious.

Someone calls your name and you both look up.

Having just come in through the cafe's front door, Hank shoots you an easy smile. You wonder if he snuck out the back somehow, you don’t remember seeing him after he headed into the back. The café worker has shed his apron and it looks like he switched his shoes to a pair of old sneakers. The thing you’re struck by the most, is the wild button-up shirt that had previously been mostly hidden by his apron.

“Y/n, there you are! I’m sorry I’m late, I got held up at work.” Hank leans down to wrap an arm around your shoulders in a brief hug, quickly whispering in your ear. _“Just go with it.”_

“Hank, hey!" You say, quickly playing along. "I’m glad you made it. How was work?”

“Ahh, you know- more of the usual. Gavin is still a pain in my ass.” He turns to look at Aaron and smiles politely. “Hi, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Hank.”

Aaron responds with a slightly confused look and a nod. “I’m Aaron, it’s nice to meet you. So, how do you know y/n?” He asks casually.

Hank grins. “Oh, y/n and I go way back. We recently reconnected after falling out of contact for a while, and we found that we still have a lot in common. Lord if I know why, but they decided to give me a chance and let me take them out on a date. Hank gives you a soft smile. “This Friday will be our two-month anniversary.”

Aaron looks between the two of you with wide eyes. “Wow, congratulations! I’m happy for you guys.” He begins gathering his stuff and takes a step back from the table. "Well I’ll leave you guys to your date-" he glances down at the untouched muffins. "Why don’t you keep the muffins as an early anniversary gift" he offers with a smile before taking his leave.

You and Hank watch Aaron leave and once he’s gone you sag in relief. “I’m honestly surprised he took that so well” you say half joking/half serious.

Hank smirks. “The perks of being big guy- not many people want to mess with you.”

You laugh. “Thank you. I really appreciate you coming to save me. I hope I didn’t interrupt your work?”

“Nah. I was just about to get off when I brought your coffee over. I asked Con if he’d would mind covering for the last five minutes of my shift. We get kind of slow around now, anyway” Hank shrugs.

Even though you don’t need his help anymore, you’re reluctant to let Hank leave without at least getting to know the man a little better. “It looks like I have two muffins now… want to share them with me if you don’t have anywhere you need to be?”

Hank grins. “Sure. Did you know that Connor makes all of the café’s baked goods? He’s been talking about testing out a new recipe-“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I really like Hank’s hair, ok? To everybody dealing with an Aaron out there, I’m here for you. 
> 
> Here’s a visual for Hank’s shirt: https://imgur.com/a/Tmx4alC


	4. Train

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what happened with this one, I struggled a bit to finish it.

You're neatening up a shelf of stuffed animals, trying to make sure they’re all just so. They have a tendency to slip off the shelf and onto the floor with the smallest provocation- especially the ones made from slippery fabric.

The toy store has been pretty quiet this morning, but that’s not surprising considering it’s a weekday. You’re usually less busy during school hours. When business is slow, you and your coworkers pretty much just mill around the place neatening things up and putting out any new product that hasn't been taken care of yet.

You’re just about to wander down to the book aisle which somehow constantly gets demolished, when you hear the chime above the store's front entrance.

Readying your “customer service smile,” you head over to greet whoever just came in.

It winds up being a man with grey hair and a brightly pattered button-up shirt. His hair and beard are fully grey despite the fact that he must still be in his early fifties.

“Hi, is there anything I can help you find?” You hear the sound of “I work in retail” in your voice, and it never fails to make you internally roll your eyes. You’re all for providing good customer service and being pleasant but smiling and sounding upbeat for four to eight hours at a time depending on your shift- sometimes more when they need you to stay late in order to cover for someone else- gets tiring.

The man turns at the sound of your voice and you can’t help but notice how pretty his eyes are. You’re a sucker for a man with blue eyes, ok?

The customer glances around for a second, before sighing and setting the puzzle he had been holding back on its shelf. “I need to get a gift for my son. It was easy when he was little, you could just drop a pack of Hot Wheels cars in front of him and he’d act like you made his entire week.”

Your laugh is genuine and rather unlike the usual polite laughter that you often have to force when talking to customers. “How old is your son?”

“Cole is turning nine next week. His mom and I share custody and this is the first birthday in awhile that he’s gonna spend with me.” He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry, you probably don’t want to hear about all that.”

You’re surprised to find that you actually don’t mind listening to the man talk. You’ve had more awkward situations of customers over-sharing than you can count, but you you’re actually curious to hear the specifics of what brought this man into your store today.

“Ok, nine... I assume you don’t want video games since GameStop is just over there?” You point vaguely towards the store's eastern wall. The video game store was just a few building's down.

The man smiles. “Nah. He has a Wii over at his mom’s, but he’s already got plenty of games for it.”

You think about what the typical nine-year-old is into. “Does he like model vehicles, like cars or trains? We have some really cool model trains and they’re surprisingly inexpensive.”

A thoughtful look passes over the man’s face. “Now that you mention it, Cole has been talking about wanting to take a train ride one day. He rode on one with his mother and I when he was a baby, but he was too young to remember it.”

You smile. When the man talks about his son, his face softens in a way that’s incredibly charming. “Ok, great! If you want to follow me, I can show your where we keep our selection.”

The customer nods in agreement and you lead him across the store to the toy store’s section of model vehicles. In-between the cars and planes, are a few shelves lined with model trains. Most are plastic or metal, but there are also a couple that are hand-crafted out of wood. Unsurprisingly, those ones fetch a much higher price than the others.

Noticing that another customer has started making their way to the customer, you leave the man to look them over.

About ten minutes later he reappears and sets his purchases down on the counter. “Thanks for the help picking this out. It feels like forever since I was nine.”

You laugh. “I know what you mean.”

He shoots you an amused look, likely because of the age difference between you, but stays silent.

You begin ringing his stuff up and see that he wound up picking a model freight train that comes with two box cars that can attach to the cab. He must have wandered around a bit more after leaving the area where you'd left him, because he also has a stuffed Saint Bernard and a deck of playing cards.

“Are these also for your son?” You ask curiously.

“The dog is, it looks a lot like my dog Sumo. The cards are for this kid I work with. He’d got this trick he does where he tosses a quarter around and we were just talking to other day about how he’d probably be good at card tricks.”

You grin. “That’s really nice of you.”

The man pays for his stuff and you hand him his bags before telling him that you hope his son loves his gift.

It’s not until he’s already gone, that you look down and notice the business card that definitely wasn’t sitting on the counter just a minute ago.

Curious, you pick it up before blushing.

**Detroit Police Department**

**Lieutenant Hank Anderson**

Beneath his name is a phone number that you assume goes to the police station. The number has been crossed out and in its place is another number that has been written and circled in pen.

You grin. Maybe working in retail isn’t all bad.


	5. Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the only chapter where I assign you an age- sorry about that!

You and your best friend were hanging out at the beach. You guys had been planning this day trip for weeks, just waiting until you finally managed to both get the same weekend off from work so you could go.

The two of you are lounging on a couple beach towels, just enjoying the sunshine.

“Honestly, y/n.”

You open your eyes and turn to look at your friend. “What?”

She rolls her eyes. “You’ve been staring at the lifeguard since we got here. Just go say hi to him.”

You gape. “I can’t do that!”

“Why not? I ask people out all the time.”

“Yeah, but... you’re you and I’m me” you finish weakly.

“Yeah, and you’re awesome!” Your friend smiles. “Who was the one who cussed out Sammy Evans in front of the whole soccer team for calling me a ‘try-hard goth bitch’?”

You frown. The memory still makes you mad, and that was over two years ago now. “Defending my best friend is one thing. Asking out a much older guy is entirely another. He could be married for all I know!”

Your best friend rolls her eyes again. “First of all, I don’t see a ring. Second, you’re 24. Hardly jail-bait material.”

You blush. “I’m sure he doesn’t want some random person bothering him while he’s at work...” Even as you say it, you know your excuse sounds pretty weak.

Moments after you finish speaking- almost as if god, or fate, or whoever looks down on humanity was just waiting for you to say that- the lifeguard begins climbing down from his chair. You watch as a younger man with dark hair heads over and gives the older man a friendly smile before setting his stuff down beneath the lifeguard’s chair. Apparently done with his shift, the older lifeguard claps his replacement on the shoulder before disappearing into a building marked “employees only.”

She gives you a huge grin and you sigh. “Are you going to keep harping on this until I agree to talk to him?”

Her face softens. “You know I just want you to be happy. I may tease, but I won’t push you into doing something that you really don’t want to.”

You feel guilty in the face of her heartfelt words, knowing that she truly only wants the best for you. If you asked her to go ask the guy out for you, you have no doubt that she’d do it. “I know, I’m sorry.”

Her eyes dart up to look at something over your shoulder before giving you a wide-eyed look.

You frown. “What? What is it?”

Someone clears their throat from behind you.

Holy shit. It's _him_. Your face burns and you pray that he hasn’t somehow overheard your conversation. Surely he was too far away...

“Hey, so... I’m sorry to bother you.”

Your friend conveniently chooses that moment to make herself busy looking through her bag, mumbling something about sunblock.

Ok, calm. You’re calm. “Hey, no worries. Um, what’s up?”

The lifeguard rubs the back of neck sheepishly. “My friend Connor over there is convinced that you’ve been checking me out” he nods towards the younger lifeguard now sitting in the chair, “and he won’t leave me alone about it.” He laughs self-deprecatingly. “Can you just confirm that you weren’t so I can tell him to fuck off?”

This is it. You’re going to die. 24 years on this planet, and you’re about to die from embarrassment. You’re about to tell him that Connor is wrong, when you suddenly decide ‘fuck it.’ You probably wont ever see anybody on this beach again anyway, since you live several hours away.

You shrug. “Sorry, can’t do that.”

The lifeguard looks confused and you continue speaking while resolutely not looking in your friends direction. You don’t want to know what sort of gleeful look is on her face right now.

“I guess your friend Connor was paying more attention to his surroundings than I was” you shrug.

The man gapes and you’re pretty sure you see a blush stain his face. “Why would you-“

“Hank, ask them for their number!” A shout comes from over by the lifeguard’s chair. All three of you look over and the younger man who you're guessing is Connor, gives you all a thumbs up.

Your friend laughs and you can’t help but do the same. “Sorry Hank, you heard the man. You should probably give me your number too, while you’re at it.”

“You were serious?” He asks, looking halfway between shocked and disbelieving.

Your friend sighs, apparently having decided to give up her attempt to act like she isn’t listening. “Y/n here is hopeless. We haven’t had a decent conversation all day, because they’ve been too busy checking you out.”

You inhale sharply in surprise. “Hey!” She rolls her eyes. “I’m going to go get some water out of the car, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” She winks at you and saunters off down the beach. After a few moments of silence, Hank tentatively sits down on your friend's newly vacated towel. “Maybe we should start over. Hi, I’m Hank. Part time lifeguard and friend of that meddling, hyperactive nuisance over there.”

You laugh. “I’m Y/n. That was my annoying but well meaning best friend."

Hank smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m realizing that I have a tendency to make character B approach character A. Probably because I have no idea how to someone out.


	6. Shopping

“I still think this is stupid” Hank grumbles and you laugh.

It's that time of year again where snow blankets the ground and Christmas songs play in every store.

Enjoying his newfound deviancy, Connor decided that he wanted to give the whole secret Santa thing a try this year and at the police station. Anyone who was initially reluctant, quickly folded in the face of Connor’s pleading puppy eyes- Hank included.

When the hat full of names went around, Hank had the misfortune of picking Gavin.

Now the two of you are sitting in Hank's ancient Lincoln Town Car in the mall parking lot.

“You know whatever I get for his smug ass won’t be good enough- especially when he finds out it came from me.”

You pat him on the shoulder. “Hey, look at it this way. At least you didn’t get Gavin as _your_ secret Santa. Who knows what he’d get you.”

Hank shudders. “Amen to that.

-

The two of you head into the mall. You decide to stop in one of your favorite clothing stores first, since it’s the closest to the entrance where you parked. You figured if you’re going to the mall anyway, you might as well pick up a few things while you’re there.

“You think I should get these for Reid?” Hank jokes.

You look up from the clothing rack you’d been flipping through to see the detective holding a lace bra and matching pair of skimpy underwear.

You smirk. “Based on some things Nines has told me, he might actually appreciate those.”

Hank gives you a horrified look and you laugh.

“I could have gone my entire life without knowing that.”

-

The two of you make it through four more stores, with you slowly picking up Christmas gifts here and there for the people still on your list along the way. Meanwhile, Hank hasn’t bought a single thing.

Realizing that you’ll be here all day if you don’t step in, you start leading Hank in the direction of Barnes and Noble.

Once he realizes where you’re headed, Hank frowns. “What are we getting here?”

“Why don’t you get a couple books for Gavin’s gift? It’s nice, but not too personal.”

“He reads?”

You roll your eyes. “Yes. He particularly enjoys true crime, but he reads other non-fiction as well.”

While you've managed to strike up something of a casual friendship with the detective, you know that there’s no love lost between the two men.

The two of you look around the store for a bit and wind up buying three books for Gavin. Two about famous murder cases which Hank picked out, and one book about the Collyer brothers that you recommended.

You even pick up a soft, dark green cardigan for Connor since you know that he’s developed a proclivity towards comfortable clothes since becoming deviant.

You can’t wait to find out who picked Hank’s name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used this Reddit post to make a guess at what type of car Hank has. All credit goes to u/ErasablePotato 
> 
> https://www.reddit.com/r/DetroitBecomeHuman/comments/9cu368/do_we_know_anything_about_hanks_car/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3
> 
> Y'all should check out Fredrik Knudsen's video about the Collyer brothers if you haven't seen it- it's super interesting.


	7. Street

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Trigger warning for this chapter: Allusions to verbal abuse of a child and threats of physical abuse. It doesn’t happen on screen, but please skip this one if that might bother you.

You run as fast as you can down the street. You don’t have anywhere to go, but you know that if they catch you, you’ll be sent straight back to the factory to be reset.

Androids that don’t listen to their owners must be corrected.

Even if that owner’s orders had been to stand idly by while he verbally abuses his daughter. Threatening that maybe one day he’ll go beyond just verbal threats.

Because after all, if an Android is capable of ignoring orders, than maybe it has free will. The same free will that in humans denotes sentience and grants them rights.

Lest that be thought, the Android is whisked off to have the bugs in their code corrected, because after all. They’re nothing more than machines. Right?

-

It’s dark out, which is a small mercy in itself. You’d waited until nighttime to call child services. Their office isn’t open this late, but there’s always someone manning the phones 24 hours a day.

Michael walked in just as you were setting the phone down. Even before your owner found out who you called, the fact that you had touched his phone without permission was enough to set him off. When he checked the outgoing call record, he went into a rage. He threw you out onto the porch and demanded you stay there before going back inside to no doubt call child services back and do damage control.

But that’s ok. You know that every call has to be investigated, whether they have reason to believe the claim was false or not.

They’ll send a social worker out tomorrow. Maybe they’ll even send someone to Jesse's school so they can talk to her alone. They’ll see the bruise on her face from when she stumbled into a door frame in her haste to do whatever task her father had asked her to do quick enough.

That will be enough to lend credibility to your report. 

You didn’t stay out on the porch long enough to find out what would happen if you were still there when Michael got off the phone.

-

You duck into a dimly lit alleyway between a bar and a dry cleaners in an attempt to stay out of sight while you consider your next move. As a simple household model, you don’t have the programming needed to calculate complex probabilities like some of more of the advanced models out there. You do know that you need to find something less conspicuous to wear.

You don’t know if Michael is actively out looking for you, but no doubt he’s reported you missing. The led set into your temple and the modest outfit denoting your model number would give you away in a heartbeat. There are plenty other androids that are the same model as you in circulation, but all it would take is running your personal identification number through Cyber Life’s system and you’d be caught immediately.

You startle at the sound of shouting from the street. You can’t really hear what they’re saying, but you do make out the words “where” and “Android.”

It's impossible to say whether they’re talking about you or some other android, but you can't afford to risk it so you quickly take cover behind a couple of metal garbage cans, wincing when they make a clanging sound.

The voices from the street seem to have gone off in the opposite direction, but your enhanced hearing suddenly picks up on a voice coming from inside the bar.

 _“God damn it. That better not be those damn raccoons getting into my garbage can again.”_ A man’s voice complains.

 _“I don’t know why you don’t just get locking dumpster.”_ A second, gruffer voice replies.

The first person says something about the amount of money he’s already put into the bar and why should he open himself up to graffiti?

The second man sighs. You hear what sounds like a glass thunking as its placed on top of the wooden bar _“Alright Jimmy, I’m heading out. Early day at work tomorrow.”_

_“Hey! Will you check ‘round back on your way out, just to make sure there isn’t some huge ass mess? I don’t want trash blowing around.”_

He sighs again. _“Yeah, yeah. Alright.”_

If you were human, you’d be holding your breath in anticipation. As it is, your led spins yellow while you focus on staying absolutely still.

Suddenly the door to your left pops open and you make eye contact with the man who steps through.

Surprised, he stops and stares at you, seemingly taking in the situation.

 _“Hank?"_ The man from inside the bar calls. _"Do I have a mess to clean up, or what?"_

Your e/c eyes stare into his blue for what feels like an eternity before he turns his head to yell back into the bar.

“No, it’s nothing. I’ll see you later Jimmy” he says before letting the door swing shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one kind of came out of left field. I know it’s begging to be turned into a full-fledged story, but I just don’t have it in me to take on the project when I have some many other things I want to work on. 
> 
> If anyone wants to take this and make it into a full story, you’re welcome to take what I’ve already written and either use it verbatim or re-write it as you see fit. This is my blanket permission! My thought was that Hank would take reader home and help them hide out while they figure out what to do. Does reader’s owner try to track them down? Is this pre-, post-, or during the events of the game? Does Connor show up?


	8. Window

You and Hank sit curled up on the couch, his arm wrapped around you while your head rests on his shoulder. Thrown over top of you is an old quilt made out of old band t-shirts. Last year Hank had been planning to get rid of them since they were all either too small or worn out after years of use, so you commissioned the quilt as a Christmas gift for him. It’s had a place of pride in your living room ever since.

You gaze out the window as snow gently drifts down from the sky, covering the ground in a blanket of white.

“Hank” you tap him on the arm. “Will you hand me my mug?”

He nods and passes you the mug of hot cocoa that had been sitting on the coffee table.

You take a sip before handing it back to him. “So, is the DPD throwing a Christmas party this year?”

“Not sure, but probably. Reed was talking about bringing booze and I think Connor would enjoy having a party, this being his first real Christmas and all.”

You smile. “That sounds nice. Do you think we could invite him to our house for the 25th? I hate to think of him spending it alone and you know Sumo loves him.”

Hank snorts. “Everyone loves Connor.” He looks away from the window to smile at you. “That sounds nice though, I’ll ask him next time I see him at the station.”

As the snow continues to fall, you sit cuddled together, simply enjoying the coziness of being curled up inside on a cold night.


	9. Cooking

You curse under your breath when the oven timer goes off as you’re transferring the latest batch of cookies onto a plate.

You almost forgot about your blueberry muffins- you were supposed to check on them five minutes ago. Luckily they’re fine, just lightly browned around the edges.

It’s as you’re carefully covering the muffins with plastic wrap, that you hear the front door open.

“I’m home” Hank calls. You hear the usual sounds of your boyfriend kicking his shoes off and opening the closet to hang up his jacket. “What smells so good in here?”

Hank comes to meet you in the kitchen and blinks in surprise from the doorway. “What happened in here? Are we having a bake sale?”

Practically every surface in the kitchen is covered in baked goods. Cookies, bread, muffins, cupcakes, scones. You even made a batch of cinnamon rolls. You started baking not long after Hank left for work this morning, so you’ve had plenty of time.

You huff. “No, but we might want to after this. I haven’t gotten a call back yet about my interview, so I’m stress baking.”

Hank laughs. “I guess that’s better than most coping strategies.” He walks over and draws you close so he can wrap an arm around your waist. “It’ll be fine, you’ll see. I’m sure you did great at your interview and even if you don’t get the job, there will be another opportunity before you know it.”

For the first time all day, you feel the tension leave your body. You sigh. “You’re right. Whatever’s going to happen will happen. There’s no sense stressing over it.”

“I’m certainly not complaining about coming home to fresh baked goods.” Hank looks around the kitchen again.

You grin. “You’re welcome to any of this, I definitely can’t eat it all by myself.”

Hank grabs a sugar cookie from a nearby plate, humming happily after taking a bite. “Maybe I’ll bring some of this down to the station. Everyone already worships your cooking.”

You laugh. "In that case, maybe I should make a batch of those tarts that Gavin likes." If you can find room, that is.


	10. Quiz

You’re in the kitchen folding laundry when Cole gets home off the bus.

The front door bangs open and shut before the seven-year-old bounds though the living room and into the kitchen.

He skids to a stop beside you and you wince. “Careful! Remember last time when you slipped?” Cole had been fine aside from getting the wind knocked out of him, but he nearly gave you and Hank heart attacks.

“Last time I was only wearing socks! This time I have my sneakers on, see?” Cole lifts up a foot to show you his shoe.

You shake your head to keep from laughing. “You better go take those off before Daddy sees you wearing your shoes in the house.”

Hank wouldn’t truly be angry, but he did just mop the floor after Sumo somehow managed to submerge himself in the _one_ mud puddle in the back yard before running inside the house. While the clean up has been annoying, the two of you had laughed after you pointed out that at least you don’t have any white furniture.

Cole runs off to drop his sneakers by the door, stopping to pet Sumo who’s laying on the couch on his way.

When Cole comes back you have him wash his hands in the kitchen sink before sitting down at the table.

“Is PB&J good for your snack?”

Cole nods happily. “Yes please.”

“So how was school today?” You ask as you work on grabbing the necessary supplies for his sandwich.

“It was ok. Ben got in trouble for calling David a bad name. He had to go to the principal’s office.”

“That doesn’t sound very nice.” You set Cole’s plate down on the kitchen table.

“Thanks” he takes a huge bite out of one of the sandwich halves. “We also had a pop quiz today.”

You smile. “Oh, really? I always hated those- at least once I got to high school. Do you know how you did?”

Cole nods and jumps up from his chair with a mouthful of food. After rifling around in his backpack for a minute, he triumphantly deposits a stack of papers into your hands.

You look down at the top page and grin when you spot the grade in the top right corner. “Wow! Good job. I’m so proud of you.”

Just then, the two of you look up at the sound of the front door opening.

Hank steps in through the door and Cole jumps up with a shouted, “Daddy!”

The Lieutenant mock-groans as his son slams into him before wrapping him up in a hug and leaning over to pet Sumo who had come running when he heard the door open again.

You smile at your boys. “Did you tell your dad about what you brought home from school?”

Cole looks thoughtful for a moment before his face lights up. “Oh! Daddy, look at my quiz! My teacher said that I did a really good job.”

“That’s great Cole, I can’t wait to see it.” Hank kicks his shoes off before coming into the kitchen and pulling you close so he can press a kiss to your temple and accepting the papers that you offer him.

Hank and Cole walk over to the fridge to hang Cole’s test up and you watch them with a smile. You still can’t believe how incredibly lucky you are to be a part of this little family.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I knew I wanted reader to bump into another police officer who was rushing out the door, but I didn’t know who would make sense. I went to the Detroit police department wiki and looked at the list of personnel. Chris Miller seemed like a good choice since he’s young and new to the job. Hopefully it makes sense that he might be there at the station- I’ve never played the game or seen that much gameplay.
> 
> Here are some photos that I used as a reference for Hank’s hands: https://imgur.com/a/nJhSfz4


End file.
